Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Pie and the Eve of Thirty

In Brothers Karamazov, Dostoyevky’s young headstrong character has this to say:

“Do you know I’ve been sitting here thinking to myself: that if I didn’t believe in life, if I lost faith in the woman I love, lost faith in the order of things, were convinced in fact that everything is a disorderly, damnable, and perhaps devil-ridden chaos, if I were struck by every horror of man’s disillusionment — still I should want to live. Having once tasted of the cup, I would not turn away from it till I had drained it! At thirty though, I shall be sure to leave the cup even if I’ve not emptied it, and turn away — where I don’t know. But till I am thirty I know that my youth will triumph over everything — every disillusionment, every disgust with life. I’ve asked myself many times whether there is in the world any despair that could overcome this frantic thirst for life. And I’ve come to the conclusion that there isn’t, that is until I am thirty.”

Which, for me, is tomorrow. So I’m making all important life decisions today.

Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Pie

Adapted from Penzeys

1 9-inch deep-dish pie shell, unbaked

1/2 Cup flour

1 Cup sugar

2 eggs, slightly beaten

1/2 Cup butter, melted and slightly cooled

1 Cup quick oats or oatmeal

1 Cup chocolate chips

1 tsp. vanilla

Crust for single crust pie:

1/4 lb. butter (1 stick)

1 Cup flour

pinch salt

pinch sugar

2 TB milk

Pie Crust: To prepare the crust, cut the butter into small pieces; it doesn’t have to be cold, but it should not be warm to the point of melting. Add the flour, salt, and sugar to the butter and beat or mix by hand to combine. Add the milk in a thin stream, mixing until thoroughly blended. Form into a ball and chill until it can be easily handled. Sprinkle a wooden board or counter top with flour, place the dough on the board, and sprinkle the top of the dough with flour. Using short strokes, roll it from the center to the edges until it is 1/8 to 1/4 inch thick. You will want to turn the dough over and re-dust with flour halfway through. Roll until the crust is about an inch larger than your 9-inch pie pan when inverted. Fold the crust in half and in half again so that it looks like a triangle. Place it in the ungreased pie pan with the point in the center. Unfold the crust and ease it into the pan. Roll the edges of the overhanging crust under so that you have a nice rim around the pie plate. Prick the crust all over with a fork.

Preheat oven to 350°. In a mixing bowl, combine the flour and sugar. Add the eggs and mix. Add the butter and mix again. Fold in the oatmeal or nuts, chocolate chips and VANILLA.

Pour into the pie crust.

Bake at 350° for about 30-35 minutes, until golden.

Haiku #21

Here I am again

Leaning into the storm of

Life’s rich pageantry.

Haiku #22

Clinic in a mall

With mirrored columns, counters

Where no one will buy.

Haiku #23

In the ten minutes

Of solitude with myself

I weep and say yes.

Haiku #24

Art bandages wounds

New Orleans, so it seems, is a

Sutured masterpiece.

Vollkornbrot the Better

The last time I made this hearty German bread, it wasn’t my favorite. This officially is. Wonderful for travel, because I think one slice is nearly a meal. After several weeks on a colorectal surgery service, I have been more than vigilant with my fiber intake. Nightmares of diverticulosis are becoming outpouchings of my REM cycle. Goodbye Florida…hello New Orleans!

I love the historical era when adjectives were tacked onto your name. I would want to be Rachel the Delicious.

Vollkornbrot the Better

Adapted from Five Minutes a Day Artisan Bread

5 c. whole wheat flour

1 c wheat berries

1 c rye flakes

1 Tbl kosher salt

1 cup sourdough starter

3 3/4 c water

2 Tbl molasses

The recipe proceeds like the other 5 Minutes a Day no knead recipes. Mix the dry ingredients, add the wet, let rise and then, in this case, let the dough sit in the fridge for 24 hours to give the whole kernels time to absorb the water.

It makes a heavy, coarse bread that doesn’t rise much in the pan (but does in the toilet—sorry, I could not resist the fiber joke).

My jokes are bad. My brother is Rachel the Better in the humor department. For example, here is one of his Christmas tags, from a gift to my husband.

Turns out it was a T-shirt of my bulldog Izzy that said, “Where’s the Cheese?” Perfect. I’m starting to look like Izzy does when she is anxious to get home. This is what I will be doing tonight out the plane window on the way to New Orleans, surely, for me, a home among homes.

Haiku #18

Walked along the bright

coastline where Hugenots were

Slaughtered on soft grass.

Haiku #19

Atrial flutter

Is the sawtooth of my tired

Conscience on floor eight.

Haiku #20

Colonoscopy

Brings to mind Willy Wonka’s

Rainy tunnel ride.

Whole Wheat Sourdough Beignets Fried in Olive Oil

Lessons from a beach walk early this morning: a small miracle it is when surgical residents, fragile shells, survive the rough tumble of training onto the shore of their careers unbroken. Near impossible, I’d say, to ever find one intact. There is beauty, however, in a lustrous fragment of what once must have been a stunning set of angel wings, or an opalescent scallop—to imagine the whole of it out in the ocean, before the waves, bobbing among fish and kelp—and now, to think whose hands elsewhere carry the other pieces of it.

I didn’t elect to make whole wheat beignets fried in olive oil because they were a healthier alternative, though I wish I could claim that kind of righteousness. I made these because I had a liter of olive oil and 5lb of whole wheat flour I didn’t want to pack in my suitcase to take home when I leave Florida for New Orleans the middle of this week. I always thought olive oil would make these taste bad—so wrong!! I’ll never use canola again.

Whole Wheat Sourdough Beignets

Adapted from Dessert For Two

½ cup sourdough starter

1.5 TB butter

1 TB sugar

3 TB whole milk

1 large egg white

3 TB boiling water

1¼ cups whole wheat flour

2 cups olive oil (or however much makes an inch or two in whatever size pan you use to fry)

1 cup powdered sugar

Combine the butter, sugar, milk, and egg white in a small cup. Whisk together well, then add the boiling water. Add the sourdough starter and mix together. Add the flour to the bowl, and stir gently to combine. Cover with plastic wrap and let rest for several hours.

Heat an inch of oil in a pot on the stove.

Meanwhile, divide the dough in half, and roll it out on a floured counter into a square about 6″ wide. Use a pizza wheel to cut it into 5 or 6 squares.

When the oil is hot and shimmering (I didn’t have a thermometer, but be careful because olive oil has a low burning point) drop in 3 square of dough. Do not walk away. The first side fries for 1-2 minutes. When golden brown on one side, flip the squares using a fork and continue to fry.

When that side is golden brown (about 1 minute more), remove from the oil onto a cooling rack lined with paper towels.

Roll out the other half of the dough, cut into squares, and fry all the squares.

Sprinkle the beignets with powdered sugar. Serve with all the extra powdered sugar piled on top.

Haiku #17

January sun

Shines for the girl whose soul froze

Of hospital bite.

As featured in Sourdough Surprises www.sourdoughsurprises.blogspot.com

Ensaimadas and Flo on the Go

I was beginning to exhibit snail behavior, slowing to near-imperceptible movement, curling my face downward, shelling most everything, things I’d like to say, feelings. Thank God I have a day off to sleep in, uncurl, put on my sneakers and leave some silver streaks around the neighborhood. Actually feel the sun on my body. Here are some lovely cinnamon roll mollusk-like breakfast pastries to get you rolling.

And yes I do really bring my sourdough starter on the road while travelling. Here she is on the breakfast nook table having safely arrived in Florida. She fits perfectly into a stylish 3 oz glass jar to go through security. Flo (her name is Flo Jo) on the Go. Go with the Flo.

Ensaimadas

Adapted from The Daring Bakers Forum

Dough

2½ cups (300 g) all-purpose (plain) flour

1-1 ½ cup (150 g) sourdough starter

1/4 cup (60 mL) warm water

1 large egg

½ teaspoon (3 g) salt

¼ cup (60 g) granulated sugar

2 tablespoons (30 mL) olive oil

7 tablespoons (100 g) butter, softened

Cinnamon and sugar for dusting

Olive oil for greasing bowl and work place.

Directions:

Mix sourdough starter with water and flour.

In a large bowl or bowl of kitchen aid mixer combine the sugar, egg and olive oil.

To this add the flour, sourdough, and salt mixture.

Knead for 6 minutes if using kitchen aid mixer or 10 minutes by hand, until you get a soft and pliable dough.

Transfer the dough to a well- greased bowl and covered with plastic wrap or covered with a cloth. Let rise for 2 hours or until the dough doubles in volume.

De-gas your dough and divide into 4 equal parts and then shape into balls.

Lightly oil the work place and place a ball of dough, using a rolling pin roll out the ball into a long thin rectangle about 12×4 inch (30×10 cm) piece.

Divide your butter to 4 pieces. Place a butter portion on the rolled out dough and spread it into a thin layer. Then sprinkle on some cinnamon and sugar as much as you like.

Take pieces of dough between your fingers and try to gently stretch the dough to be even thinner and larger about 16×7 inches (40 x18 cm).

Roll the dough from the long end to into a long tube.

Then roll the tube again into coil shape similar to a snail shell.

Make sure to keep the coil loose so that there is space in between the layers, this will help the dough to rise.

Repeat for the other three dough balls and butter portions.

Place the snails onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Slightly press the sides with your hand.

Cover the baking sheet with a clean cloth and let rise for 1 hour.

During the end of second rising, pre-heat oven to 350⁰F

Bake ensaimadas for about 15-20 minutes. Watch them closely during the end of baking time. They should be golden brown in color.

Haiku #14

The surgeon noticed

How different my hair looks

Open versus closed.

Haiku #15

Beasts, yes, this world makes,

And, among them, those who find

Beasts so beautiful.

Haiku #16

I know I may look

To be unresponsive here.

Don’t call CODE on me.

Oatmeal Toffee Cookies

If I have learned anything in my short and arguably insubstantial life, it is this: Feed others when you are hungry. And so, more cookies for general surgery residents after another 16 hour day amongst ORs. I’m starting to wonder if my curious and near-maniacal love of surgery once was, in fact, unprecedented levels of adrenaline conflated with the extreme pleasure and catharsis one has when one is released from the bonds of a duty one fears, hours and hours of duty and fear. Day after day, this systole and diastole, but oh, what a diastole. I sang from the top of my lungs the whole drive home tonight, was near tears with gratitude while stirring this cookie batter—which begs the question, what precedes such relief? Surely not love?

Another lesson I’ve picked up along the way: There are two primary emotions that drive human behavior–fear and love. Machiavelli, and myriad others, would prefer to appeal to fear because it is easier to control. I prefer the latter. Though it is wild, there is deep fulfillment in feeding others.

Oatmeal Toffee Cookies

Adapted from Penzeys Spices

1/2 Cup butter

1/2 Cup sugar

1/2 Cup packed brown sugar

1 egg

1 TB. water

1 tsp. vanilla

1 Cup flour

1 Cup quick-cooking oats

1 tsp. baking soda

1/2 tsp. salt

2 Cups semi-sweet chocolate chips

1/2 Cup dried cranberries

1/2 Cup chopped walnuts or pecans and/or cranberries (whatever you are in the mood for)

1/2 Cup toffee bits

Preheat oven to 375°. Cream together the butter and sugars. Add the egg, water and vanilla and mix well. Gradually add the flour, oats, baking soda and salt. Mix well. Fold in the chocolate chips, cranberries, nuts and toffee. Drop by the tablespoon on lightly greased cookie sheets. Bake at 375° for 8-10 minutes or until lightly browned around the edges. Remove from oven and let cool for 5 minutes. Transfer to wire racks to finish cooling.

Haven’t missed a day yet with the haiku resolution:

Haiku #11

I love a man who

Runs alongside me for miles

with candles as hands.

Haiku #12

Lipoma is the

Tumor I would want to be:

A plump false alarm.

Haiku #13

This house suddenly

Becomes so full of strange sounds

When you are not here.

Garlic Scapes Frittata and the Disney Marathon

“When I was a lad I ate four dozen eggs

Ev’ry morning to help me get large!

And now that I’m grown I eat five dozen eggs

So I’m roughly the size of a barge!” -Gaston, Beauty and the Beast

There’s nothing like running 26.2 miles in yellow tulle. In the rain. Next to a guy carrying candlesticks and wearing gold spandex. The Walt Disney Marathon was our 25^th in this series of 50 in 50 states! Half way there!!

When thinking about an ideal breakfast for building muscle mass in training, I thought of what Gaston said—and decided to start with one dozen eggs.

Garlic Scapes Frittata

7 garlic scapes (about 1 cup or 4 oz)

5 oz cheese (1 cup, shredded)

1/2 cup whole milk

10 large eggs

1/2 tsp sea salt

freshly ground black pepper

2 tbsp unsalted butter

sea salt

freshly ground black pepper

Preheat your oven to 350° degrees. In a large bowl, whisk the eggs and milk together. Set aside. Cut the scapes into 1/2″ -inch pieces. Preheat at 10″ -inch non-stick, ovenproof skillet over medium heat. Add the butter. Once melted, add the scapes and season with a bit of salt and pepper. Cook for a couple of minutes just to soften slightly.

To prepare the frittata, turn the heat to low. Pour the egg mixture over top and stir gently to incorporate the egg. You want to see cooked egg scattered throughout, but wet egg in between. This should take about 4 or 5 minutes. Break the cheese apart and sprinkle over top. Transfer to the oven and bake for approximately 15 minutes or until the surface has set.

Once done, let the frittata cool for a few minutes. Loosen the bottom with a spatula and slide onto a cutting board.

Haiku #9

“Psychoanalyze,”

she said, “a dirty UA.”

Too many mothers.

Haiku #10

It doesn’t make sense

to shower the night before

a marathon. Oops.

Avocado, Feta and Cherry Tomato Salsa Flatbreads

Haiku #7

Since honesty kills

drama, why not walk through each

new day stark naked?

Avocado, Feta and Cherry Tomato Salsa Flatbreads

Adapted from Food and Wine

2 cups cherry tomatoes, quartered

1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for brushing

1 small shallot, minced

1/3 cup chopped mint

1/3 cup chopped cilantro

1 1/2 tablespoons red wine vinegar

1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper

Kosher salt

Black pepper

All-purpose flour, for dusting

1 pound pizza dough, you can make or buy

4 ounces feta cheese, crumbled

1 Hass avocado, peeled, pitted and thinly sliced

In a bowl, toss the cherry tomatoes with the 1/2 cup of olive oil, shallot, mint, cilantro, vinegar and crushed red pepper. Season the salsa with salt and black pepper.

Light a grill. On a lightly floured work surface, press and stretch each piece of dough to an 8-inch oval and brush with olive oil. Grill two dough ovals over moderately high heat, turning once, until puffed and lightly charred, 5 minutes.

Transfer to a work surface. Repeat with the remaining dough. Spoon the salsa over the flatbreads and top with the feta and avocado. Cut the flatbreads into wedges and serve right away.

Haiku #8

Sleep deprivation

is like following a squid

Deep underwater.

Fish Tacos with Mango and Mint Salsa

Haiku #5

Today’s delusion:

Winter shall vanish if I

shake this maraca.

Which I did, and POOF, I ended up in Florida where the weather is a balmy 70. No comparison to where I left, tomorrow’s high is -14 degrees. The poor chicken’s eggs are freezing. As it turns out, a frozen yolk is a beautiful thing. Almost a foreshadowing of an avocado season to come… Or a maraca.

So are fish tacos for a girl headed to the beach! Or at least looking out toward the beach. From the general surgery resident work room.

Fish Tacos with Mango and Mint Salsa

Adapted from Estancia Wines.com

3 tablespoons olive oil

2 limes, 1 zested and juiced, 1 quartered lengthwise

1 tablespoon finely chopped cilantro, plus more for garnish

1 medium shallot, finely chopped

1 pound skinless halibut, sea bass or striped bass fillets

1 mango, diced

3 tablespoons finely chopped mint

1 medium serrano chile, seeded and diced

Salt

1 avocado, halved, pitted, peeled and thinly sliced

4 radishes, halved if large, thinly sliced

10-12 corn tortillas

Directions

Preheat grill to medium-high heat. In a medium dish, combine oil, zest and juice from 1 lime, cilantro and half the shallot. Add fish; turn to coat. Let stand 15 minutes at room temperature. Meanwhile, in a bowl, stir together remaining shallot, mango, mint, half of the chile and generous pinch salt; stir to combine.

Remove fish from marinade. Grill flesh-side down, 4 minutes, then turn and cook until just cooked through, 3 to 4 minutes more. Transfer fish to a plate; let rest 5 minutes, then flake with fork.

Grill tortillas 10 to 15 seconds per side; remove from grill. Divide fish among tortillas; top with salsa, avocado and radishes. Garnish with cilantro and remaining chile, if desired. Serve with lime wedges.

Because my only catalogue for these haikus is here, enjoy #4 an #6 from today.

Haiku #4 (after seeing the Gambler)

Everyone gambles.

Only some can accept the

All or none outcome.

Haiku #6

Some drink beer in the

shower; I read a cookbook

to sleep on hard days.

Moon and Stars Bread

People often ask me with abject incredulity, You really make all your own bread? How do you have time? There are ways, my friends. And this is one of them: Make one batch of bread dough to use all week. There are two main advantages to this: 1) it is more efficient to make dough once and then pull off pieces of the levain throughout the week to make different loaves, keeps the variety AND 2) this way your bread is fresher. I used to make monster loaves that were the size of my sink, and then I would chip away at them over a week or two, and try to pretend like I didn’t care that they got stale, or I would go to extreme lengths to preserve the bread with saran and bags and, well, too much equipment. So these small portion breads, pulled from a bigger batch of prepared dough, are pretty slick. This one is a whole wheat moon and stars loaf– moon and stars as tribute to what I looked at for 10 hours during my overnight driving shift on KP and my last road trip across the country for the holidays. And by last, I don’t mean most recent.

Moon and Stars Bread

Adapted from Healthy Bread in Five Minutes a Day Book (thank you for the gift Kim Wiseman!!)

5 1/2 cups whole wheat flour

2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1 cup sourdough starter

1 tablespoon Kosher salt

4 cups lukewarm water

1 to 2 tablespoons of whole seed mixture for sprinkling on top crust: sesame, flaxseed, caraway, raw sunflower, poppy, and or anise

I do it differently than the technique recommended in the book for two reasons: 1) I use sourdough starter, never yeast, and NEVER vital wheat gluten (that is sooo cheating) and 2) Tartine Bread book changed my life, and in my mind, they are the originators of the super-hydrated bread dough technique that does not require kneading—so I stick to their method with little deviation.

Start with mixing the water to and the starter to form a very wet dough. Add the flours, do not add salt yet. Mix this all up and wait forty minutes before adding the salt in a little bit of water. This gives the dough some time for the gluten molecules to align (as they must)—and because salt can retard sourdough growth, giving 40 minutes for there to be a jump start is a good idea. At this point, you can let the dough rise for hours and hours. Then you can put the dough in the fridge and pull off pieces from it to use for baking fresh bread all week.

Cover loosely (leave lid open a crack) and allow to rise for two hours at room temperature (if you decreased the yeast, you’ll need more time). NEVER PUNCH DOWN or intentionally deflate. The dough will rise and then begin to collapse. Refrigerate and use over the next 14 days, tearing off one-pound loaves as you need them.

On baking day, cut off a grapefruit-sized piece of dough (about a pound), using a serrated knife or a kitchen shears:

Now, quickly shape the loaf into a batard and pull the ends toward you like a crescent. DON’T KNEAD or otherwise knock all the gas out of the loaf:

Cover the loaf loosely with plastic wrap and let it rest on a pizza peel covered with cornmeal or parchment for 90 minutes (40 minutes if you’re using fresh, unrefrigerated dough. This is longer than our 1st book because whole grains take a longer rest than white doughs. Depending on the age of the dough, you may not see much rise; our loaves depend more on “oven spring.”

Thirty minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 450 degrees F, with a baking stone placed on a middle rack. Place an empty broiler tray for holding water on any other rack that won’t interfere with rising bread.

Just before baking, use a pastry brush to paint the top with water and sprinkle with seed mixture.

Slash the loaf with 1/4-inch deep parallel cuts across the top so the moon starts to look like a shell. Use a serrated bread knife held perpendicularly to the loaf, or scissors.

Slide onto the hot stone and carefully pour 1 cup of hot tap water into the broiler tray. After a 30-minute bake, cool on a cooling rack, and serve however you’d like.

Haiku #2

Winter cross-country drives

offer me the midnight prayer

I call: Wyoming.

Haiku #3

Each night, while you sleep,

trucks crawl this country upon

dark, icy ribbons.

Dim Sum Char Siu Bao and New Years Resolution Haiku

There is something paradoxically restful in the chaos of family visits over the holidays. The reassurance of roots, of home—the reminder of belonging. I made my Sourdough Surprises challenge early this month to take advantage of the New Year’s symbolism inherent in Chinese dumplings, the pork filling representing the prosperity and treasure tucked into every year, sweet and savory. I admit, I totally didn’t follow through on last year’s Resolution. We had two months of overt dinner hosting attempts with strangers, and then, I think because the challenge was spread so thin, once a month, I lost the thread and the project halted. Boo. Oh well. Acceptance of failure is as good a teacher as is success. This year, I’ve decided to give myself a daily short assignment: I will write one haiku a day for a year. Many of them I will try to post here, collecting the seventeen syllable tercets among my recipes and baking projects. The intent behind this year’s resolution is the belief that no day should go unspoken for, and yet, with haiku, the aim is to champion concision and clarity. KP resolves to eat every meal this year with chopsticks. I’m not sure why we have latched onto Asian sensibilities for 2015, but perhaps there is a reason we have yet to uncover. And so again it begins.

Haiku #1

The last place I would

Hide treasure is a dumpling.

Just don’t hide treasure.

Dim Sum Char Siu Bao

Makes 16- 3″ buns.

Adapted from Thirsty for Tea

Bun Dough

3 cups bread flour

3 Tbsp Bird’s Custard Powder (I wish I understood what this is and what exactly it does– cornflour?)

1 Tbsp nonfat dry milk

1 cup sourdough starter

1/4 cup white sugar

2 Tbsp butter at room temp

3 Tbsp vegetable oil

1 egg, lightly beaten

1/4 cup water

bench flour and oil for proofing bowl

Roux

1/2 cup water

2 Tbsp bread flour

Pork Filling

2 Tbsp macadamia nut oil

1 small yellow or brown onion, finely chopped

2 Tbsp rice wine or sherry

3/4 pound roasted Chinese barbecued pork, diced into 1/4″ cubes

6 Tbsp water

4 tsp oyster sauce

4 tsp low sodium soy sauce

1 Tbsp hoisin sauce

1 tsp sesame oil

2 Tbsp sugar

5 tsp cornstarch

1/4 tsp ground black pepper

1- 3/4 oz. package of fresh chives, chopped

Garnishes

1 egg, mixed with 1 tsp water

1 Tbsp honey, mixed with 1 tsp hot water

2 Tbsp black sesame seeds

2 Tbsp chopped chives

Directions:

1.) Make the Pork Filling. Put a large skillet on medium-high heat. Add the oil to the pan and then add chopped white onions. Cook onions until softened and lightly carmelized, about 5-7 minutes. Pour in the sherry or rice wine and let it cook out. Lower the heat to medium and add in the diced pork. Cook this mixture for an extra 2 minutes. Meanwhile, mix all the rest of the ingredients (except chives) in a small bowl to create a slurry. Add the slurry to the pork and onion mixture, wait for it to come to a boil, and cook the filling until it becomes dark brown and translucent. Turn off the heat and transfer the filling to a medium bowl. Cover the filling and set it aside to cool to room temperature. When filling has completely cooled, mix in all but 2 Tbsp of the chopped chives. The remaining 2 Tbsp of chives are used later to garnish the buns.

2.) Make the Water Roux. Place a 1/2 cup of cold water into a small saucepan and add the 2 Tbsp of bread flour. Mix well until the mixture resembles homogenized milk, then turn on stove top to medium heat. Cook the roux until it thickens up and has the consistency of a thick yogurt, making sure to keep the mixture a pure white color by not overcooking. The mixture should not exceed 150 degrees F. Place the mixture into a small bowl and cover with plastic wrap, making contact with the top surface of the roux (to prevent a skin from forming). You should end up with about 1/3 cup of roux, ready to use when it has cooled back down to room temperature.

3.) Make the Dough. Using the bowl of a stand mixer, place all the wet dough ingredients (including the roux) into the mixing bowl. Place the bowl in the stand mixer with a dough hook attachment and start to mix on low speed. Add the yeast, sugar, milk powder, and custard powder first. Then add the bread flour gradually, a cup at a time, scraping down the insides of the mixing bowl periodically. Increase the speed to low-medium and continue to mix until the shaggy mass becomes a soft and supple ball of dough. If necessary, gradually add a teaspoon of water at a time until the dough comes together. Knead the dough for 10 minutes. Transfer the ball of dough to an oiled bowl to proof, lightly coating all sides of the dough with some of the same oil. Cover the bowl lightly with plastic wrap. Let the dough proof in a warm, draft free place for 30-40 minutes or until the mass has doubled in volume.

4.) Portion Out the Dough. After the dough has doubled in volume, punch it down and transfer it to a work surface lightly dusted with bench flour. Give the dough a few light kneadings, then portion dough out into 16 equal pieces.

5.) Make the Buns. Roll out each of the 16 dough pieces into a roughly 4″ round or square, making sure to keep the thickness of the dough even throughout in each piece.

Fill each flattened piece with 1 1/2 Tbsp of meat filling.

Gather the edges to pinch and seal, then flip the bun over so that the smooth side faces up.

Place buns into cupcake cases and transfer to a 12 hole muffin or tart pan, then cover loosely with plastic wrap. Let the buns rise for 30-40 minutes, or long enough for them to have doubled in puffiness. Meanwhile, pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees F. Or otherwise, if you are going to steam the buns, place them on little parchment circles, and let rest for 15 minutes or so.

6.) Finish and Bake, or Steam. After the second rising, brush the tops of the buns with egg wash, then sprinkle with sesame seeds. Bake in oven for about 15 minutes, or until buns turn a light golden brown. Remove from oven, transfer to a cooling rack to sit for a few minutes, then give the buns a generous brushing of thinned honey. Sprinkle with fresh chives and serve!

If you want to steam the buns, fill wok or stockpot with 3-4″ of water. Set water on high heat and let it come to a full boil. After the 15 minutes of proofing have elapsed, place the steamers in/on top of the wok/stockpot and cook on high heat for 8 minutes, or until the buns are puffy, fluffy, and risen. This is the first time I’ve ever made these, and I didn’t have one of those adorable wooden round basket steamers I see on all the adorable serious dim sum blogs. Will have to get one for future dumplings–as there will be many more dumplings, I’m hooked!

Photographs courtesy of Karl-Peter (long-suffering husband), and lovely dishes courtesy of Marilyn (mother-in-law who rescued these orange and slate floral dishes from her grandmother Hilda’s posthumous treasure troves–not the cute Asian tea kettle or teacups, though those are also Marilyn’s. Dishes make all the difference in food photography, methinks. That is my secondary New Year’s Resolution.)